


every man for himself

by crickets



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003), Firefly
Genre: Crossover, M/M, commentfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-19
Updated: 2008-05-19
Packaged: 2017-10-02 03:52:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crickets/pseuds/crickets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>he hasn't smoked in months</p>
            </blockquote>





	every man for himself

Serenity. It means peace, but on New Caprica it is nothing more than a simple incapacitated transport ship, firefly class. Her engine suffered major damage and the ship was of no use to cylon agents at the time of the occupation. Subsequently, her crew, a known group of felons, was allowed to keep her, busted up as she was.

The report on the president's desk says she was the second largest supplier of incendiary materials--smokes, booze, condoms, and all the trappings that made life in the fleet feel a little more like home. Somehow Serenity retained that position throughout the occupation. And given their position, central to the city, lots of hiding places, Gaius can see why. The cylons and the NCP have suggested a full takeover and imprisonment of the ship's crew.

But Baltar doesn't know anything about that. What Baltar knows is that he hadn't had a smoke in months and he would kill for a good cigar.

A burly man greets him at the cargo bay doors. "Jayne Cobb, public relations," he says, a cigar clenched between his teeth which he makes no attempt to hide. He's all muscle, bare arms crossed in front of him, marked with dirt, and stands taller than six feet. Though he carries no weapon, like all humans under occupation rule, he still gets his message across.

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you, Mr. Cobb," Gaius starts, once inside and out of the vicinity of prying ears. "I don't customarily make house calls."

"I'm sure I don't have to tell you, Mr. President," Jayne says. "Ain't nobody here in need of one."

"Yes, right. Well see that's the thing." Gaius continues. "That's just the thing. This is more of a courtesy visit. I--I want to help you..."

"How's that?"

"Cat's out of the bag, Mr. Cobb. Right now there's a group of NCP, aided by a heavy Centurion security detail, preparing to take you over come nightfall. Trust me, you and your crew and your passengers do not want that to happen."

Jayne gives a slight nod and small band of unarmed crew appears above them on the scaffolding, lead by a dark-haired man that Baltar recognizes as the ship's Captain, Malcolm Reynolds. "And how is it that you'd be helping us with that now?"

-

Jayne delivers Baltar's order personally under the cover of night, with an armed Centurion escort.

"You're bad for business," he tells Baltar one night while the guard waits outside.

"How is that, Mr. Cobb?" Baltar lights a match. "The way I see it, I'm the only reason you're still in business."

"You go through these gorram things like water. May I?" He points to the box on the desk.

"Yes please," Baltar takes a puff. "I hate to smoke alone. Makes me feel... well... lonely I suppose, you know?"

Jayne looks at Baltar relaxing against the heavy leather chair. How he became so chummy with the President he'll never know. Still, it's better than an evening with the crew these days, always fussin' and worryin', always talkin' about takin' up with the resistance. Frak all that. It's every man for himself. That's always been his motto and it's served him well so far. And he has a feeling Baltar understands that more than Mal ever would. 'Sides, he thinks as he takes a seat on the couch, the furniture is loads more comfortable.

"Yeah," he says. "I know. Boy do I ever."


End file.
